


Ready To Share

by pastelswitchblade



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelswitchblade/pseuds/pastelswitchblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he wasn’t happy, times like these when Hansol was a little less bright and fed up with it all, Seungkwan was there to pick him up again, rekindle him until he was ready to leave his arms like he always did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready To Share

**Author's Note:**

> My first Seventeen fic! I'm sorry it's a little angsty...It's also midnight so I have a lot of emotions

Boo Seungkwan sat slumped into his bed, curled amongst the sheets and pillows in a happy nest of warmth. He aimlessly scrolled through his phone, trying very hard to think of nothing in particular. It was then, at his most peaceful and empty, that there was a soft knock on his door. He could barely hear it and wasn’t even sure it was on his door, but he still scoffed at the interruption and yelled, “Come in.”

He quickly scrambled to sit up in bed as he saw Hansol slowly open the door and quietly close it behind him. His hair was tangled and fell heavy in front of his face. 

“What’s up?” Seungkwan asked casually. Loud alarms rang in his head, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions before Hansol was ready to share. Hansol hated talking about himself in front of others, and Seungkwan knew if he wasn’t careful Hansol would curl up on himself and refuse to speak. Hansol sniffed shortly, staring rather intently at a piece of carpet. He shrugged.

Seungkwan took a deep breath, feeling his heart sinking deep into his gut. “Did your mom call?” he asked, and darkly prayed that he was wrong. 

He wasn’t, and Seungkwan’s heart shattered as Hansol’s face twisted in pain. He crumpled before him, collapsing on the bed in front of Seungkwan in a mess of sobs and hiccups. He babbled out incoherent sentences in a heady mix of English and Korean. Hansol rarely got homesick, except when his mother called out of the blue and he hadn’t prepared a list of happy stories and news to keep her occupied. Otherwise, his mother would share too much about home, tell stories about Sophia, and tell him that she loved him too many times.

Seungkwan inched towards him and gently pulled him by the shoulders. “Come here,” he cooed. “Come here, come here, it’s okay.” Hansol sobbed harder as Seungkwan sat him between his legs, Hansol’s back against his tummy, and wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I miss her so much, I miss them, I don’t want to..” Hansol trailed off, too exhausted by his own emotion to continue.

“I know,” Seungkwan said, “I know and it’s okay. They’re so proud of you, they don’t want you to stop. You have to keep going, you have to, for them. I know you can.”

“I can’t!” Hansol cried.

Seungkwan hushed him, hoping the other members would leave them alone, even if they heard Hansol’s breaking sobs through their thin dorm walls. “Yes, you can, yes, yes, you can,” he whispered, shaking Hansol gently in his arms. Hansol gripped his wrists, pulling them tighter around him as if he could disappear into Seungkwan himself. Seungkwan buried his face into his neck, rocking the both of them impossibly slow until he heard Hansol’s sobs begin to subside. He lifted his head, breathed in the scent of Hansol’s hair, and quickly brushed his lips against his cheek. Hansol pulled harder on his arms, and Seungkwan felt the strain in his shoulders as he failed to envelop all of him in his arms. He laughed softly and asked, “When did you get so big?” Hansol shrugged again.

Seungkwan knew, though, exactly when Hansol grew. He could remember the exact day when his best friend, so small and easy to hold and carry, suddenly grew into his looks. He knew exactly when he had to start looking up into Hansol’s eyes instead of the other way around, and when he starting laughing harder at the jokes girls made than the ones Seungkwan did. He waited for his own growth spurt that never came, for his body to carve out his puffy cheeks and puppy fat, but every day passed with little change. Everyday, he looked in the mirror and saw an immature boy being left behind for better things. He didn’t blame Hansol for brushing his hand away in public, for refusing to sit in his lap, for avoiding eye contact when Seungkwan sang songs he used to love to watch. They didn’t match, anyone could see that from first glance. Hansol was blindingly bright, and Seungkwan didn’t mind burning away quietly behind him, as long as his best friend was happy. And when he wasn’t happy, times like these when Hansol was a little less bright and fed up with it all, Seungkwan was there to pick him up again, rekindle him until he was ready to leave his arms like he always did.

“Hey,” Hansol whispered, “Can you sing for me?”

Seungkwan let out a choked laugh. It was times like these that Hansol felt so small again. He started to sing softly, some light melody he had heard on the radio one too many times. Hansol closed his eyes and rested his head against Seungkwan’s chest. Seungkwan prayed that he wouldn’t hear the quickening of his heartbeat through his thin cotton shirt. 

“Hey,” Hansol whispered again, even quieter than before. Seungkwan stopped singing. Hansol took a deep breath, and Seungkwan could feel his lungs expand and sink against his tummy. “I love you.”

Seungkwan smiled sadly. “I love you, too” he said but felt a sharp knife sink deep into his heart.

Hansol huffed and quickly untangled himself from Seungkwan’s arms to face him on his knees. His eyes were still glassy, his face red and puffy and the knife twisted. “No,” he pouted, “ _ I love you. _ ”

Seungkwan looked anywhere but Hansol’s face. He was panicking, he felt his skin crawl and his palms start to sweat, but he laughed and grinned wider. “No, you don’t, silly.”

Hansol looked angry, his hands clenched into fists on his knees and his eyes filled with tears again. Seungkwan lost control of his breath and got dizzy. He waited so long for Hansol to laugh, to tease him for falling for his joke, to tell all the members how he had really got him this time, but instead Hansol said again, “I love you. I don’t...I don’t love you like a brother, or a bandmate, I know that. I love you like...Like no one else, okay?”

“ _ No you don’t. _ ”

“How do you know?!” Hansol scoffed. “How can you know what I’m feeling?”

“Because you can’t love me!” Seungkwan cried, his voice breaking on a sob and he cursed himself for slipping as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Because no one can love me like that. That’s not...it’s just not an option for me. You do not love me like that, and neither will anyone else. I’m just not made for that. You’ll find a nice girl soon, I know you will. Just wait, I promise you don’t have to settle for me like this forever.”

Hansol shoved him. Seungkwan gaped in shock, but Hansol just shoved him again, pushing furiously against his shoulders until he’d pushed Seungkwan as far as he could into the sheets, then brought his fists down again and again on Seungkwan’s chest. The punches were so weak and clumsy, they barely hurt as they thumped against Seungkwan’s sternum, but he grabbed at Hansol’s wrists, wrangling them together until Hansol collapsed, sobbing against his shoulder. Hansol was mumbling something over and over again, muffled by Seungkwan’s shirt, so Seungkwan pushed him up off of him.

“I love you, please just let me, I love you, please just let me, please, please, let me love you, please…”

Seungkwan dropped him again and wrapped his arms tightly around Hansol’s shoulders. He felt hot tears roll down his cheeks and he clenched his teeth tightly together. He dared not move. 

He wasn’t sure how long they lied there, but soon the silence was too heavy around him, the only sound in the room quiet sniffling. “You know,” Seungkwan started softly, but he still felt Hansol tense up in his arms. “You’re really ugly when you cry.” Hansol laughed, sharp and desperate, and lifted himself up onto his elbows. He looked up at Seungkwan expectantly, asking a question so innocent and heartbreaking that Seungkwan tried hard not to start crying again as he met Hansol’s eye and nodded. Hansol gasped, his breath heavy and shaking as he slowly, so, so slowly, ducked his head and pressed their lips together. 

Seungkwan’s head swam as their lips met, inhaling deep as Hansol tilted his head to meld his lips deeper into his. They stayed like that a while, Hansol’s lips chapped but warm against his. All at once, Hansol pressed a hand up the hem of his shirt and licked along Seungkwan’s lips. Seungkwan yelped, grabbed Hansol’s wrist and Hansol pulled back. It gave Seungkwan a sick sense of comfort to see that he was just as scared as he was. 

“Was that...okay?” Hansol whispered. Seungkwan swallowed and placed Hansol’s hand back on the bed. 

“You don’t have to...you don’t have to touch me like that.”

Hansol frowned and put his hand back over Seungkwan’s stomach. Seungkwan felt a wave of nausea pass over him. “But I want to.”

“No, I believe you. I’m just, it’s not...I’m not…” he trailed off, not even sure how to say it, tugging down on the hem of his shirt from where Hansol had hiked it up.

Hansol pouted angrily, and fisted his hand in Seungkwan’s shirt. “Don’t, don’t you dare start with that again. I don’t give a shit what you say people think, you are perfect. You are so perfect and talented and please, please stop this. Please believe me when I say that you are so beautiful.” He gently pulled up Seungkwan’s shirt again and kissed the pale, soft skin underneath. “Don’t you ever believe that you are less than perfect, you beautiful fucking human.” 

At some point in the midst of long kisses, tears wiped away before they could fall, and whispered confessions, the two boys fell asleep in a tangle of tired, lanky limbs. 

Jihoon found them first, equipped with a scathing lecture on the importance of helping with chores. His words dissolved as he saw the puffy pinkness of their eyes, and the desperate way they clung to each other in a mess of sheets, their noses and foreheads pressed tight against each other. He smiled. He turned the light off, and gently closed the door behind him. He could wait, as long as they needed, until they were ready to share. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea how much I wanted to title this Sharing Is Caring
> 
> For every comment I will tell a pup that they are good


End file.
